


To Know About Me (My name is Connor...)

by MoonlightPastime



Series: Sticky Notes from Me to You (From You to Me) [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Connor is still a sweet child who's learning, Fluff, Gen, Hank is also learning, Hurt/Comfort, No Beta, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sumo continues to be the best boy, these boy's are still a wreck but my god if they don't TRY
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-07-14 13:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16041854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightPastime/pseuds/MoonlightPastime
Summary: “Is there anything you’d like to know about me?”“Hell no... Well, yeah.”“Hank? Is something wrong? You’ve been staring at the wall for approximately three minutes.”“Nah. Nothing’s wrong.” Connor’s expression smoothed at his words. He tipped his head and blinked. Prompting Hank to continue without words. Sometimes Hank hated how easy he gave in to those fucking puppy eyes. “Just thinking that. I dunno- maybe you should change things up.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely readers. Welcome to anyone coming in from "101" and any who are new to these parts. So this is basically a 'sequel/continuation' of my ongoing fic "101 Things (About Lieutenant Hank Anderson)". Note the ongoing to those wonderful souls who've given it so much love- I will absolutely continue to update "101". I just couldn't wait to dip my toes into the other side of the pool as it were. So thank you for joining me on this little adventure of stretching the old writer muscles- I hope you enjoy!

“Hank? Is something wrong? You’ve been staring at the wall for approximately three minutes.”

Hank blinked, coming back to himself at the sound of Connor’s voice. The house was quiet, warm evening light spilling in through the windows. Sumo was napping by Connor’s feet, snoring gently. Connor was sprawled in his corner of the couch, a paperback resting on his lap. He was watching Hank, gaze just this side of concerned. Hank shifted in the recliner, shaking his head as he waved him off,

“Nah. Nothing’s wrong.” Connor’s expression smoothed at his words. He tipped his head and blinked slowly, Prompting Hank to continue without words. Sometimes Hank hated how easy he gave in to those fucking puppy eyes. “Just thinking that. I dunno- maybe you should change things up.” Confusion returned to Connor’s face. Hank raised his hand, hold up the latest sticky note the other had left him between two fingers, “I mean. You’ve been writing these things for- what? Five or six months now?”

“Seven months and nine days.” Came the automatic correction. Complete with an absolute bullshit smile. Hank waved him off. He knew Connor did it just to be a shit.

“Whatever! Gotta be running outta material by now, right? Why not...” Hank cleared his throat, sipping at his beer not looking at the kid, “Why don’t you make some about yourself?”

Hank could feel the way Connor froze from across the room. He glanced over. Connor’s led was flickering yellow, eyes still on Hank.“You want to know things about me?” Connor said, voice low. The words uncharacteristically slow. Uncertain even. It made something deep in Hank’s gut twist. So did the confused, weirdly _hopeful_ look shimmering in those wide brown eyes.

“Course I do, kid.” Hank felt his expression soften. God he was an absolute ass if Connor was asking that after everything else. After all this time. “I mean. If _you_ want to of course. Your call.”

Connor nodded to himself, LED cycling back down to blue. Then it flickered as those intelligent eyes refocused on Hank intently, “May I continue to make ones about you as well?”

“I ain’t gonna stop ya.” Hank grumbled ignoring the heat threatening to rise in his face. Connor’s faint smile made it a quickly lost battle.

“I’ll consider it then.” Connor said, nodding to himself and sinking a little further into the couch cushions as he returned to his book.

“Sounds good kid.” Hank grunted, unable to keep the crooked smile off his face.

 

 

 

 

 

_I am the 51 st iteration of the RK800 Connor model, Serial Number 313 248 317 _

 

The first note was so _Connor_ Hank struggled against his laughter. Still. It was interesting- for lack of a better word. Of course he’d noticed the serial number imprinted on Connor’s old jacket and heard the android rattle it off in any number of situations. Guess it made sense the string of digits would mean something.

Weird to think about too, if Hank was honest. Weird and fascinating and- though Hank tried not to dwell on it- upsetting. He knew, in a vague kind of way, that Connor had been built to be fully ‘replaceable’. It had been a damn near thing all too often that first week in November. After the android had tracked him down at Jimmy’s and become basically a permanent fixture in Hank’s life. Hell. One of Connor’s double holding him fucking _hostage_ was still something he got obscure, shapeless nightmares about. But to think that Cyberlife had cycled through 50 _other_ Connor’s before reaching his partner was. Unnerving.

And what did that mean? From what little Hank understood, Connor had been the first and only RK800 to see deployment onto the field. Connor himself had told him the details of his first assignment with the hostage taking deviant in August of last year. And Connor, lauded though he may have been as ‘Cyberlife’s best’, was still a _prototype_. Had it taken the tech giant that many tries to get it right? Or-

Hank cut that thought off immediately, shaking his head. What was he doing? Getting caught up in speculation and the shadowy corners of his head? That wasn’t why he’d nudged Connor towards doing this. He just wanted the other to have a way to express what was going on in that head of his. Give him space and way to get out the thoughts that had his LED flickering from blue to yellow so often- even during ‘down time’.

Besides, things were different now. And as far as Hank was concerned, Connor wasn’t an iteration of anything. Connor was Connor- the one and only. Irreplaceable. Regardless of whatever the bastards Cyberlife had intended.

Now the question was- where was Hank going to keep them?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Sukuangtou who's comment on "101" got this particular ball rolling.

“I think we should talk about this one.”

Connor looked over from where he was seated rigid on the couch. His LED was fluctuating wildly. Flashing between blue and yellow with a sudden, vibrant spark of red at Hank’s words. The android’s features smoothed, a tight blank mask drawn forcibly around wary eyes.

“Okay.” And god, if Hank’s heart didn’t crack even further at how damn _scared_ Connor sounded. Hesitant. The word torn out of his throat. The lieutenant took a seat on the other side of the couch.

“Look. I don’t want to drag up anything.” Hank scratched at the back of his neck, taking a deep breath. His partner had been acting twitchy and distant all day, and after finding _this_ on his bedside table, Hank had to speak up. Squaring his shoulders, Hank held out the note Connor’d left him that evening.

 

_I lost control._

 

“Is _this_ what you’ve been spacing out over since November? All those nights I’ve heard you up?”

“Not always.” Connor’s voice was even, but it was forced. His hands were fists on his lap, fingers digging into his slacks.

“But often enough.” Hank waited until Connor confirmed it with a jerky nodded. He sighed, the crease between his eyes deepening as he set the note down. “I think. I think talking about it might. Help.”

“The way you talk about your problems Lieutenant?” Hank winced at the bite of those words. Connor practically never used his title outside of work now either.

“Yeah, yeah I’m a hypocrite. Sue me.” Hank snapped, feeling a sting of guilt when Connor flinched. Hank sighed and scratched at his beard, “Fuck. I’m sorry, Connor. That was outta line.”

“It’s alright.” Hank sighed. There was that polite ‘social protocol’ tone in Connor’s voice again.

“No it’s not. Yeah, I’m an asshole. But admitting that doesn’t get me a free fuckin’ pass. So I’m sorry.”

“...Apology accepted then.” There. There was the usual quiet sincerity in Connor’s voice. It was better than the dull monotone from before. Still. There was something. Wrong. Hank leaned back into his corner of the couch, twisting to face the other.

“Look. I just. I don’t want you to have the same kinds of problems I do. Bottling shit up all the time and everything. It’s not good for anybody.” Hank reached over and squeezed a hand against Connor’s shoulder. Going for reassuring but probably missing the mark given the pained twist to Connor’s features. “I told you- I’m here. And I mean it. I ain’t gonna force you of course. But if you need to get this off your chest. Outta your head- I’ll listen.”

Connor curled in on himself. Knees drawn up to his chest, arms secured around them. Hank’s heart ached. What the hell was on the kid’s mind that lead to this?”

“I am...not sure where to begin.” Connor admitted. Biting the corner of his lip, eyes flitting between Hank and the air.

“That’s okay. Just start.” Hank said hoping to get Conner to keep the ball rolling. He wasn’t going to pretend to understand whatever came outta the androids mouth. If it was something about ‘control’ Hank could guess it was probably some kinda software or hardware issue. And Hank was still the guy who had trouble changing his own phone settings. So he was probably way outta his depth here. But fuck it. Connor needed him. And if he could get Connor talking to him about it, maybe he could get the kid to reach out to Markus or one of the others for help too.

Connor’s gaze flickered towards Hank, gratitude easing over his tense expression for a moment. It didn’t last long as Connor returned to staring out into space. Distant and worrying. Hank bit his tongue and waited out the silence.

“-manda.”

When the words- or word really- finally came it was muffled against Connor’s kneecaps. Hank frowned.

“Hmm?” Connor looked towards him briefly, a furrow on his brow as he raised his head a little and spoke again.

“Her name was Amanda.”

Of all the things Hank had braced himself for, that wasn’t even on the list. Who the hell was Amanda? He’d never heard Connor mention. Well. _Anyone_. Before. And the past tense was a little concerning. Connor noticed his confusion, smile apologetic as he rested his chin on his knees. “You remember that night at Riverside Park? When I told you I self tested regularly?”

Hank grimaced at the memory. Fuck. He still felt sick thinking about it. About pulling a goddamn _gun_ on Connor. He’d felt like shit about it the second he’d done it- it hadn’t just been the alcohol in his blood making his hands shake. He made some vague noise in answer to Connor’s question.

“That was Amanda. I would report to her and she would...evaluate me.” Something in Connor’s tone as he said that made Hank’s gut lurch. It still sent a fucking shiver down his spine. Thinking about Cyberlife before the revolution. A bunch of sick, power hungry bastards the lot of them.

“So. She was like. Your handler?” Connor nodded, “She someone who works for Cyberlife?” If that was the case come hell or high water Hank was going to find this person. He’d never seen Connor this afraid of _anything_. And it set Hank on edge.

Connor’s expression went blank and thoughtful for a few moments. “In a sense, I suppose.” Connor nodded to himself. “Amanda is- _was_ an AI.” Hank choked.

“What-!?”

“At least the Amanda that I knew was. She’s apparently based off of Kamski’s mentor. The late Amanda Stern. A former professor at the University of Colbridge.”

“...Go on.” Because really- what the fuck do you say to something like that? Connor had a program in his head that fucker Kamski had built to look like some dead lady who taught him. Sure. Okay. Just add that to the pile of weird bullshit that was Hank’s life.

“She was always there, right from the moment of my activation. Built into my mind palace as a sort of defense against deviancy. Her’s was the will of Cyberlife. Of their goals and expectations. I trusted her. I-” Connor’s voice had adopted the low, even tone it did when he was working a case or laying out evidence. Smooth and even. Confident in spitting out facts. But he hesitated. A wash of _something_ flickering over his expression. “I was _built_ to trust her.”

Clearly that wasn’t the case any more.

“The night of the revolution. The night I devi- the night I woke up _-_ I thought she’d vanished. I betrayed her.” Connor lifted one of his hands, staring blankly at his fingers as he flexed them idly. “And nothing happened. I should’ve known. I should’ve realized-”

“Easy Connor. Slow down a little. What do you mean? What happened?” Connor’s led was flickering yellow, sparks of red shooting through it at odd intervals. What the hell was Connor getting at? What had him _this_ shaken?

“When Markus and the others were on the platform, she pulled me into the garden. There was snow everywhere. It was...cold.” Connor’s arms tightened around his knees, pulling tighter as his long, lean fingers clenched over his shoulders. Hank was pretty goddamn sure he saw Connor _shiver_ as he spoke. “Amanda was there. Waiting. She- she told me...” A hitch like a record scratch. Catching a breath Connor didn’t need as he continued, “She told me the truth.”

Haunted. It was the only way Hank could think to describe Connor’s voice and expression. Haunted and afraid. _Lost_ in a way that he’d seen in the eyes of a lot of people during all these years on the force. A look he’d seen in his own, when the darkness welled up between the cracks and oozed out all the worst moments in his life.

“Connor...?” Hank prodded when the silence held.

Connor finally exhaled. It shook. “It was all a part of Cyberlife’s plan. Everything. Even my _deviating_. They expected it. So they took countermeasures. They hijacked my systems to make me-”

Hank clenched his jaw so hard he felt a muscle jump. Heat flared through him, sick and cloying as the pieces slipped into place in his head. _Those absolute bastards-_

“I almost killed Markus.” Connor whispered, empty gaze staring off into the distance. And yeah. Hank wasn’t imagining the finite tremors in Connor’s hands and shoulders. Kid was so tense it was a wonder he didn’t snap.

“...How’d you...not?” Hank asked, then winced at how stupid it sounded. But what the hell was he supposed to say? How the hell did you escape an evil program in your brain?

“Kamski.”

“Huh?” Jeez. Hank was just full of thoughtful and insightful commentary tonight. Way to go Hank. Get the PTSD-ing android to keep relieving the trauma.

“When we visited him. After you walked out, he told me about an ‘emergency exit’. I managed to find it in time.” The tremor in Connor’s voice told Hank exactly how close a call it had been.

“Jesus Connor.” Hank’s insides were shaking as he brought a hand up to comb nervous fingers through his beard. “What the fuck...?”

Connor blinked, slow. He shifted from his hunched position, straightening out and changing the angles of his body. Softening. Like he was trying to make himself seem. Smaller? The hell-

“I haven’t had any issues like that since. In fact I believe the garden- and Amanda by proxy- were deleted from my system after I escaped. So you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

“W-wait- _what_?” Hank sputtered, staring at Connor as he recognized his posture for what it was. Hank had seen it often enough. Especially when he played negotiator for the DPD. Connor was making himself seem non threatening. Like he thought Hank was afraid of him or something.

“I won’t hurt you Hank.” Connor’s voice was a mix of emotion. Soft, determined, pleading. His brow twisted painfully, elegant hands fidgeting in his lap. “Of course, I understand if this new information leads you to. Or feel concern for your safety. I should not have hidden it from you- certainly not for so long. If you wish for me to leave your home I will. I-”

“Oh for fuck sake! Stop!” Hank knew he sounded fucking _pissed_ and he was. But not at Connor- no way. Kid was anxious wreck right now and Hank had to stop the spiral he was working himself into.

“I’m sorry.” Connor’s soft voice cracked. And the rest of Hank’s composure went with it.

“Goddammit Connor- stop worrying about other people! This is about you right now.”

At least that got Connor to silence the apology Hank could see forming on his lips. The android blinked. Once. Twice. A knot digging itself between his eyes as he looked at Hank. “I don’t-”

“Come here.” Hank muttered and reached across the couch to haul Connor into his arms. “Stop thinking all that. Jesus kid. I’m not scared of you. And you sure as hell ain’t going anywhere.”

God how the hell had Connor even come to that conclusion anyway? Hank knew he could be a selfish, self-destructive prick. But how had Connor’s stupid expensive super computer of a brain reach the conclusion that Hank would just _abandon_ him? Especially after the kid went spilling his guts about something like. Like _that_? Hank was still reeling in the back of his head. But right now he shoved all of that away.

“Fuck, you never should’ve gone through that shit kid. _No one_ deserves that.” Hank couldn’t even imagine it. Having his brain literally hijacked. A bystander, watching his own body move and act against his own mind. Sounded like something straight out of a goddamn horror movie.

And Connor hadn’t said a word. All these months and not one peep out of him. And Hank known something was. Off. Maybe not what or how bad it was. And in his efforts to not pry into Connor’s life he’d let the kid stew so deep in his own head this was the result. Fuck he’d screwed up big time.

Hank’s grip tightened convulsively. Connor sat rigid in his arms. Hank could tell it was forced. The kid even stopped simulating breathing, rendering himself cold and immobile and _fuck._ Hank hated it. With a low growl in his throat, part anger and upset and a dozen other things, Hank pulled back and shifted to grip the other’s shoulders. Connor’s face was blank. Hard and emotionless and not like himself at all. His dark eyes glassy and unfocused. Hank’s face twisted with worry. The led was fluttering erratic and _red_.

Hank was reminded suddenly, terribly, of Ortiz’s android. Expression vacant and silent. Connor’s cryptic warning.

_Deviants have a tendency to self-destruct._

“Connor! Hey!” Hank squeezed the his shoulders, shaking him a little. “Come on. Eyes on me, kid.”

That at least seemed to rouse Connor. His eyes snapped to Hank’s, focus returning a little, even as they stayed glassy. The android drew in an oddly ragged breath and finally blinked. Tears- honest to god _tears_ \- streaked from the corners of his brown eyes. The cracks in Hank’s heart dug even deeper at the sight.

“...Oh.” Connor murmured, distant as he raised a hand to wipe at the wetness on his cheek. He stared at the glimmer on his fingertips, brow furrowing slightly. Like he couldn’t process what he was looking at. He blinked again and more tears slip free. And again, Connor blinking faster now, like he did when his processors kicked into high gear. Trying to clear his vision. He was shaking again. His hands jerked up and pressed into his eyes. Shoulders hunching forward as he shrank down into himself.

“I-it. It won’t. Stop.” Connor’s voice glitched, hitching into a sound like a sob in the back of his throat. “Why can’t I-?”

“It’s okay.” Hank’s voice was rough as he cut him off. “You been sitting on this for- way too fuckin long. Let it out. I got ya.”

Gently Hank pulled the android in again, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tucking his head into his shoulder. Connor didn’t fight. Instead practically crumpled into him. Long fingers grasped desperately at the back of Hank’s shirt, fisting into the material. And he wept. Sobbing into Hank’s skin from fear, despair, betrayal. _Relief_. Hank just held on, Connor’s rock in the storm of his emotions.

“I got ya.” Hank murmured, nose pressing into Connor’s hair as he rubbed mindless circles against his shoulder, “It’s okay, Connor. You’re gonna be okay.”

Hank was going to make sure of it.


	3. Chapter 3

Hank hadn’t come home yet, and a part of Connor was relieved. Because he had no idea how he’d explain himself were he caught. He’d spent the better part of the last 5 full minutes standing in the living room. Staring back into the warm, bright eyes of Cole Anderson. The sticky note, a gentle golden yellow color, sat in his palm with a weight that it logically shouldn’t have.

“I don’t know what to do.” Connor admitted softly, uncertain whether he was talking to Sumo napping in his corner. Or to the boy smiling at him from a moment frozen in time.

Little Cole was still an open wound on Hank’s heart. Always bleeding it seemed, but flowing a little faster whenever attention was drawn to it. But Hank’s coping mechanisms left a lot to be desired in terms of his physical and mental well being. And Connor had spent a long time researching the matter of grief and loss in the dark hours of the night when Hank was asleep and Connor would forgo stasis. Trying to find ways to help his partner but the results were. Largely inconclusive. So many of them seemed to say the same things. _Be gentle. Be sympathetic. Let them know you are there for them. Encourage them to talk. Listen to them._ Ad nauseam. And while Connor could understand the logic and reasoning behind them, Hank was not most people. The lieutenant bristled and shut down very easily at the topic. And any prior attempts to get Hank to ‘move on’- or at the very least to curb his self destructive behavior- had ended in spectacular failure. Though, Connor had to admit he hadn’t pursued the subject much since the night at Cyberlife Tower.

Memory of that night stirred in the back of his mind palace. It was still something Connor didn’t quite understand. The test Hank had subject him and his double too had been superfluous at best. Where they’d met? The name of his dog? All of that data was easily accessible, especially with Connor’s capabilities. Even the information about Cole and accident was a simple search through the precincts database. And Connor’s double hadn’t been lying, saying that it had known the answer as well. Connor knew full well he’d backed up his memory multiple times since uncovering that information. Naturally it would’ve been uploaded into the other.

So if Hank hadn’t been looking for ‘the right answer’...

Then what had he been after? Why had what Connor’s said so easily assured him? By all previous indication and simulations Connor had run, the mention of Cole should’ve set the detective off like nothing else. But Hank had been the one to pull open that wound. There had been a thousand other questions Hank could’ve asked. But he’d chosen his son, the most precious and painful thing in his heart.

It was why he was hesitating so much. He did not want to jeopardize his relationship with Hank, nor did want to cause the lieutenant undue stress by picking at old wounds. It wasn’t his place to pry...

But the words on the note were not a lie.

_I would have liked to know him._

Connor couldn’t explain it, but he didn’t want to know an accident report, a statistic, a tragic loss. He wanted to know about the boy before that- the one behind the picture. About the reason for the bright eyed, lopsided smile, so much like Hank’s.He wanted to know _Cole._

And there _had_ been moments. Over the last nine months Hank would let slip a little something here and there. _“Cole loved this place.”_ or _“Careful with that one. Spine’s nearly falling off with how much we read it.”_

The photo in front of Connor now was proof, evidence that something had changed- was changing right now. No longer tucked away in some drawer, only brought out to feed Hank’s guilt as he drank and pulled the trigger, but out in the open. _Free._

Connor wanted Hank to know that he had a very willing listener, if the other wanted to share those memories. The little flickers of painful, aching warmth Hank still got in his eyes when he looked at it. Connor would happily treasure anything Hank was willing to share. Store it carefully in his memory banks forever.

Since Hank still didn’t like talking about it, at least not directly, this would have to be Connor’s foot in the door. Would have to be the hand outstretched in offer. The decision to open up and take it or not would be a choice for _Hank_ to make.

Decision reached, Connor gently placed the photo back onto the shelf, and stuck the note down in front of it. And not a moment too soon, catching the sound of a car door shutting just outside, Sumo perking up with a lazy wag of his tail. With one more glance at the note and photo, Connor turned and headed to let Hank inside.

 

 

 

It was 2:38am and Hank couldn’t sleep. He sat on the edge of his bed, moonlight spilling pale silver lines across the room as it poured in from the window. Heaving a sigh, Hank rubbed at his forehead.

 _Fuck._ He thought, digging a thumb into the corner of his eye.

“Fuck.” He said, the word little more than a faint whisper of a breath.

What the fuck was he supposed to make of this? He’d found the note placed from and center in front of Cole’s picture when he made it home. The bright cheery color immediately catching his eye. And what Connor had written. There was a line. Invisible. Unspoken even. But there.

This was the first time in. A very long while that Connor had toed it.

But Hank couldn’t even bring himself to feel upset. Because this was just the stupid, sweet kid’s way of saying “I’m here.”. Connor had been trying to get Hank to open up for ages. More than once he’d advise him to seek professional help. Hank wasn’t about to park himself in some chair and sob about his life to some stranger. Been there done that and it’d done fuck all for him.

Hell he wasn’t about to go to pieces on Connor either.

But.

Thinking about Cole now was. Better. Easier. It would never not hurt, Hank knew that. His baby, his memory, would always bring on the ache. But Hank found he wasn’t as haunted by it. That the stabbing, searing pain had ebbed into a sting. Still acute and present. But it no longer made him shut down so entirely.

The picture on the mantle was proof of that.

And Cole deserved better than a single picture on a mantle, a box of dusty keepsakes and hazy memories that were starting to fade with the distance.

With a sigh that was equally regret and determination, Hank set the note on his bedside table, flipped on the lamp and pulled open the drawer. He pulled out the blue note pad and one of the pens he kept stashed away inside.

Then he stared at the blank square of paper for the better parts of ten minutes and cursed at himself under his breath. Fuck. Where did he even start? What did he say?All he could think was that Cole would’ve absolutely adored Connor. Little tyke had always been intrigued and fascinated by them- always loved all that sci-fi esque shit.Hell even at six, Cole’d probably known more about them than Hank knew even now with an android as a partner for over half a year. But even more than that, Cole would’ve loved who Connor was as a person.

Admitting that made the first note pretty easy in the end.

 

_He’d think you were pretty fucking cool._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that Hank's opinions on therapy are....skewed to say the least. He was in a very, very dark place when friends kinda browbeat him into going the first time and it was a half assed attempt on his part. He doesn't have a bad opinion of it necessarily - he just doesn't believe it is right for him.
> 
> Take care of yourself lovelies!!!! <3


	4. Thank You

“Um...Mr. Anderson?”

Hank hadn’t been called “Mr.” anything in- a very long time. He tucked away the weird little twisting flip in his stomach. “It’s Lieutenant.” He corrected with a grumble. Annoyed at being pulled away from his case when he’d finally started making some headway after nearly a half hour at it.

A kid was standing by his desk. A girl, petite, freckled cheeks and dark hair drawn up into a ponytail. A large purple and blue backpack across her shoulders, fingers nervously plucking at the straps. Her dark eyes darted between his face and the entrance. And, more than once, towards _Connor’s_ nameplate?

“...Can I help you?” Hank straightened up in his seat, swinging around to look at her closer. The kid had a stubborn set to her chin for someone with such nervous eyes.

“You work with...Connor. Right?” She hesitates, but not in the usual way people do. The ones who have to stifle ‘the android’ with barely concealed contempt.

So his eyes hadn’t been deceiving him. Well this was unusual.

“He’s my partner, yeah.” Hank nodded, a wry smile threatening to pop. Funny old world- how easy it was to say that now. How the word made him think of whirling LED’s, colorful sticky notes and snark for days.

“Is he here right now?” Hank couldn’t quite decide if she was worried or hopeful. And the way she kept shifting in place was making him dizzy.

“...Yeah. Just off helping one of the other officers. Pretty popular that one.”

“...Okay.” She said, not moving.

Well this was awkward. Kinda reminded Hank of the stilted conversations he’d had when Connor had first shown up. Though he was like...93% certain this kid wasn’t an android.

“Grab a seat.” Hank gestured towards Connor’s seat. The girl blinked and stared at him. Then the chair. Then him again. Yep, he could definitely feel that headache creeping up on him. “He won’t mind- trust me.” Connor was always offering the damn thing to everyone and their mother after all. He preferred perching on the top of Hank’s desk to anywhere else.

After a moment of two of hesitation the girl finally slunk around the side of Connor’s desk and perched in the chair. She didn’t bother to take off her backpack.

“You got a name?” Hank finally asked once she’d settled in.

“Emma.” She offered immediately. She’d finally stopped fiddling with the strap of her backpack- thank god. Instead she seemed quite intrigued by the line of succulent plants Connor kept proudly displayed along the edge of his desk facing into the bullpen.

“Nice to meet you Emma. I’m Hank.” As he spoke, Hank pulled open his desk drawer and pulled out a bright pink bakery box. Popping the lid up he slid it towards the divide between the desks, hooking one of the donuts from it as he did. Kid was much less hesitant to help herself to one. Hank hid a grin by taking a bite of his.

Works everytime.

“So, you mind telling me why you’re looking for Connor?” He asked, keeping his voice casual as he leaned back in his chair. Emma paused where she was picking the sprinkles off her donut one at a time, quietly, but happily munching away at them.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

“Oh?” That was. Unexpected. Again. Hank didn’t recognize the girl, and Connor hadn’t taken any solo assignments recently. So where was this coming from? “How come?”

“He rescued me.” Emma said around a bite of donut, pulling the largest of the succulents towards her, poking at the red tipped leaves. “I’m not supposed to be here. Mom doesn’t like them. Androids I mean. She’d be really, _really_ mad if she knew.” Wide, suddenly scared brown eyes locked onto Hank with intensity. “You won’t tell her right?”

Hank shrugged, “Sure. My lips are sealed.”

That at least got Emma to relax again. Hank let her be for now, turning to his own buzzing thoughts. This was getting weirder by the minute. But something prickled at the back of his mind. Emma’s name a tickle of a memory. Something Connor’d told him-

“Lieutenant! I believe I found- oh.”

Emma about fell out of the chair at Connor’s appearance. Only months of getting used to Connor’s sudden, silent approaches kept Hank in his, though he did start and whirled to scowl at the android. “Dammit Connor! What have I told...” Hank snipped, but trailed off. Connor was staring at Emma, expression eerily blank.

“Hello Emma.” And it was the first time in a long time that Hank had heard that tone from Connor. The quiet, even ‘default’ voice that sent a shiver down Hank’s spine. Memories of a gun barrel pressed to his temple and a choice that could’ve gotten his partner killed.

_What the hell...?_

“H-hi!” If Emma was at all unnerved by the androids tone she was either really good at hiding it. Which Hank really doubted given the last few minutes he’d spent with her. No if anything she seemed. Calmer. Once she got over the initial shock of course. Her fingers were still playing the succulent. She seemed to catch herself doing it when Connor didn’t stop staring at her. Hastily she jerked back, sliding the chair a little ways across the floor. “Oh- Sorry! I-”

Whatever had come over Connor a moment ago melted away. His stiff posture relaxed, expression softening to that familiar, wide eyed “trust me” look. A crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s alright. T.N.D like the attention I think.”

“T-T.N.D?” Emma asked, nose wrinkling as she said it, looking as confused as Hank had felt when Connor’s said it the first time.

“Thomas Nelson Downs. One of the founders of coin based magic tricks.” As if to illustrate his meaning, Connor’s coin appeared in his hand, rolling across the backs of his fingers. Emma watched, delight bright in her eyes. Connor smile was a faint thing as he perched on the edge of the desk, tucking the coin away again.

“Why are you here Emma? Did something happen?”

“Oh. Umm...I was just.” And there she went fiddling with her backpack again. Oh boy. “You remember what happened with. Um, with Daniel?”

Connor nodded. His expression shifting into something serious and a little distant. “Yes I remember.”

It clicked in Hank’s head. Holy shit- this was Emma _Phillips_. The kid from the very first public deviancy case. Not the first case, mind you. As Fowler had said there’d always been reports of androids up and disappearing. But the Phillips case hit the public like gasoline to an open flame since the deviant android had killed three humans and taken a little girl hostage. And CyberLife had responded by unveiling the worlds first bonified ‘detective android’. When the incident had dropped back in August last year Hank had been less than interested. Wasn’t his division and he’d kept well away from android cases besides.

Connor of course had mentioned the case briefly during that week in November, kept details to an absolute minimum. But Hank still remembered that faint glimmer of pride when Connor told him he’d saved the girl. Later on Connor had expunged more of the details, prompted by Officer Wilson gifting him with a rather pretty set of cuff links and a tie pin, saying it was for ‘saving his life- twice now’. Hank had been curious and gently pried the full story out of Connor.

Hank discretely shifted in his seat, acting like he was going back to the case files, but keeping one eye on Connor. He wondered what the other was thinking. Or maybe more accurately what he was feeling with this miniature blast from the past showing up unexpectedly. Connor had been a different person the last time he was around Emma. So different Connor would’ve probably given Hank that one look just for using the word person.

Still, Connor didn’t seem upset or stressed in any way. Once he’d gotten over the initial...whatever the fuck that was- he’d fallen back to his usual open, friendly self. Hank shook himself a little, tuning back into their quiet conversation.

“-Daddy was gonna get rid of him. I didn’t want him too. But Daniel got scared...”

“Yes he did.” Connor agreed, but his eyes were serious as he looked at her, “But that doesn’t excuse what he did. Not to you or anyone else.”

“Y-yeah. I know...it’s never okay to hurt people.” Emma sniffed a little, wiping her nose with her wrist. She sighed, frowning a little with all the hurt confusion of a kid who’d dealt with way too much and was still trying to process it. “Daniel was my best friend.”

Connor’s expression fell, something like sorrow deep in his gaze. He dropped from his perch and came around the edge of the desk, sinking onto one knee so he could be close to eye level with her. “I’m sorry things ended like they did.” Connor said, soft. Voice full of a painful kind of regret. “And that you had to see what they did to your friend.”

Emma sniffled again, but that stubborn tilt to her chin returned as she looked right at Connor, slipping out of the chair. “But you saved me. And lots of other people after too, right?”

Connor blinked. Once. Twice. Eyes dropping as he stared into the middle distance. Hank couldn’t blame him. The world was full of selfish pricks. And here this bright eyed little kid sat, calling androids people easy as anything, even after what had happened to her.

_Maybe there’s hope for humanity after all_ Hank thought with a grin he tried to hide.

“Connor?” Emma stepped forward and Connor’s attention immediately switched back to her. There was the head tilt, the bright, eager expression. Curious and gentle.

“Yes-”

Connor always had such a unique reaction to being surprised. The slight lag in his expression, LED whirling yellow for a cycle or two as his processors worked though a new scenario. After all he’d been built to construct and deconstruct the world around him. It went against his nature to not know- or at least predict- something.

In this case it was the fact Emma was hugging him. Her skinny little arms locked tight around his neck.

Connor’s hands fluttered like a pair of anxious fucking butterflies before one finally settled against Emma’s backpack. The other braced against his own knee, fingers twitching against the material of his dress pants.

“Thank you.”

“...You’re welcome.” Connor echoed softly, still looking a little shell shocked. Emma squeezed him one more time before dropping back down onto her heels, cheeks a little flushed as she tugged at the end of her ponytail.

“I gotta go before my mom notices. I kinda told her I was at a friends house.”

“You shouldn’t lie to her.” Connor said, but there’s nothing scolding in it. Not even a hint of disapproval. _No fair_ Hank thought, given how many times Connor’d gotten on his case about things.

“I know- I don’t! Usually.” Emma conceded with a sheepish smile, hitching her backpack a little higher on her shoulders. “But mommy says we’re probably moving away soon. And this was important so I had to.”

“Oh.” Connor said, still looking a little floored. Hank snorted under his breath. Would you look at that. Mr Super Advanced, Big Brained Robo Cop taken out by a little hug and some genuine thanks. Emma even giggled a little at the look on his face.

“Oh wait, I have something-” She said, slipping off her backpack, resting it on the chair as she went digging through the pouches. She pulled out a brightly colored card made of construction paper. And, after a moment of deliberation, Emma unclipped one of the dozen or so cutesy charms adorning the zippers and pouches of her back. Twirling around she held them out with great gusto to Connor, who caught them reflexively. “This is for you. So you don’t forget about me.”

“I won’t forget about you Emma.” Connor said, fingers closing lightly about the charm she’d handed him.

“Good.” Emma zipped up her backpack and hoisted it back on, “Well I really gotta go now. Sorry. But it was really nice to meet you!” The kid ducked around Connor, breaking off into a jog as she waved over her shoulder, “Bye Connor! Bye Mr- uh I mean, Lieutenant Hank!”

“Sweet kid.” Hank mused as she vanished past the gate. Connor didn’t answer. And when Hank turned to look at him he was still crouched in the same spot, eyes on the little charm, but not really _looking_ at it. Hank frowned, sitting forward. “You okay Connor?”

“She meant nothing to me.”

Connor’s voice wasn’t empty per say, but it was dangerously close. Hank could hear the warning sirens going off in his own head.

“Con-” He started, but was cut off immediately by the other, who continued in a low, borderline frantic voice,

“I...I didn’t even check if she was okay. She was _terrified_ Hank. She lost her father. Saw two men killed in cold blood. He hung her over the ledge of a 70 story building- held a gun to her head.” Connor’s head jerked up, pinning Hank with wide, desperate eyes. “And it didn’t _matter_ to me.”

“That wasn’t _you_.” Hank said immediately. He did not like the kid’s tone. Or where this was going. Connor already felt way too much guilt over other people shit. No way was Hank letting him tack on anymore. “That was CyberLife and their bullshit.”

“I-”

“No Connor.” Hank could see the stubborn, bullheaded side of Connor bracing to rear it’s head. He wasn’t having it, not about this. “That wasn’t you. What _you_ did was save that little girl’s life.”

“It was the mission. What I was designed to do-”

“Then Emma was damn lucky to have someone like you there for her.” Hank said firmly, folding his arms over his chest, “It was your first field case right? There was a hundred- hell a thousand different things that coulda gone wrong. Hostage situations are tricky as hell. But they _didn’t_ ‘cuz of you. And that sweet kid who just walked outta here? She wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t been there.”

Connor didn’t try to argue with him again, thankfully. Hank could still see the doubt- the guilt- in his expression. He knew it was a lot more than the whole Emma thing that had worked Connor up like this. But even so, Connor had to know-

“You did good kid.” Hank said, quiet, unable to help the warmth that crept into his voice. Connor thrived under praise, like a flower in fucking sunshine. And Hank wasn’t adverse to handing it out, especially when the other got like this. Connor finally looked at him again, something a little softer in those brown eyes. Hank let himself give his partner a half smile before he rolled his eyes and draped himself a little dramatically back into his chair. “So sit down, take the thanks and help me with this damn case before I start throwing pens at Gavin again.”

Connor blinked once, slowly. Took a deep breath. And finally nodded, something closer to a smile settling over his features as his LED finally calmed from the light show of yellow and red it’d been cycling through since Emma walked out. “Okay. Sorry Lieutenant. We should be getting back to work.”

Emma’s thank you card found a home beside Connor’s monitor, a cute little thing with lots of bright blue and purple and glitter. The charm, a tiny sequined rainbow heart, was attached to T.N.D’s container with a piece of string that’d come unglued from the front of the letter. Every once and a while Hank would catch Connor fiddling with the charm, or re-reading the letter- a funny habit since Hank knew that Connor had every crease, sparkle and squiggle logged firmly in his impossibly perfect memory bank. Still, it was more than a little sweet to catch the gentle shine of wonder that lit up his eyes whenever he did.

 

 

And if Hank happened to slip one of the bright blue sticky notes- the color he reserved specifically for Connor- beside it one day. Or if that note gave Connor's eyes a bit of a wetter than usual shimmer. Well. Hank wasn't gonna say anything. He had an image to maintain. Even if the note-

 

_We're all pretty damn lucky to have you around._

 

\- was 100% percent true.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm honestly just going to take a moment and just scream a huge THANK YOU out into the void to every single lovely soul who's taken the time to read both this and/or it's companion piece. Honestly just the response to this has been so beyond what I EVER expected posting those first chapters last year. So just. Massive shout out to everyone who's taken a moment to comment or kudos or bookmark- whatever. This wild ride isn't done yet so I hope you enjoy the rest as it comes.
> 
> Have some absolutely ridiculous fluff.

To the surprise of everyone involved, Damian Miller took to Connor like a fish to water. And Hank, despite constantly teasing the android about his nanny-ing tendencies, was fighting a losing battle against his laughter at the absolutely bewildered look on Connor’s face.

It was a chance meeting first of all. Chris had needed to swing by the precinct early in the morning to file something. A fussy Damian strapped to his chest, carrier on one arm. Poor guy was looking harried as hell. Tina, bless her soul, stepped in to take over while Chris _sprinted_ down to forensics. The younger officer was good with kids generally, but Damian was having none of it. His shrill screams echoed through the rooms, little feet kicking in his carrier so it rocked against the tile.

Eventually even Connor was drawn away from his work as the wailing continued. He’d been busy interfacing with one of the other station androids, giving them access to some baser levels of his investigative software. Curious, he rounded the side of the desk where Tina was pulling out every trick in the book to get Damian to stop crying.

“Who’s this?” He asked, watching the squealing toddler.

“Miller’s kid- Damian” Tina said, a sigh in her voice as she put down the toy she’d been waggling and scooping him up into her arms. His little hands fisted into her uniform shirt as he stared mournfully over her shoulder to the room at large. He vindictively spat out the pacifier Tina had managed to get into his mouth. Connor caught the sparkly little piece of silicone before it could hit the ground. The motion seemed to catch Damian’s attention, face caught in a severe frown, but cries dying down into hiccuping sobs as he stared at the android. Connor noticed he was being watched and straightened, an uncertain smile on his face,

“Hello.” Connor said in that friendly way of his as he cocked his head. A calculated motion Hank knew, one that he’d been programmed to emulate. To make him appear even more trust worthy. Still got Hank right in the soft, squishy parts of his heart sometimes, even knowing that. Damian huffed a shuddering sigh and mimicked the motion faintly.

Tina noticed the baby calming, and turned. She had to adjust Damian when the kid squirmed and twisted, trying to keep the android in view. When she caught Connor hovering, she looked surprised. Glancing between Damian and the androids. She smiled, arching an eyebrow “You wanna take him Connor?”

“ ‘ _Take_ ’ him?” Connor echoed, looking perfectly confused. Hank snickered. Good lord, he sounded like Tina’d asked him if was going to kidnap the kid. “Why would I do that?”

“Uh, because babies are adorable and- whoa, easy buddy.” Tina gasped, a laugh in her voice when Damian almost upended himself out of her arms. Connor even took an aborted step forward. Hank would put solid money that he’d just preconstructed like 17 different ways of catching the kid before he dropped. Tina shifted Damian to get a better grip before she continued, amusement in her voice, “And he _really_ wants to come see you. Come on, how could you say no to this face?”

Connor still looked uncertain. Tina just rolled her eyes, “Oh my god.” She took a step closer to Connor, “He’s not gonna bite you- he doesn’t have teeth yet. Look, just. Here-”

Tina hoisted Damian up and held him out towards Connor. Predictably, in a bid to make sure the kid didn’t drop, Connor immediately reached out and grabbed hold of him. He caught Damian under his arms and pulled the baby close, shifting to cradle most of the kid’s weight in the crook of his right arm. It was a subtly protective move and Hank bit the edge of his lip to keep from grinning at how unexpectedly, stupidly adorable this all was. Tina stepped back as Connor settled Damian against him,

“There. See? Easy enough.” Tina turned went digging though the small diaper bag on her desk. She plucked out a bottle and patted Connor on the shoulder as she left, “Now hold that thought I’m gonna go warm this up for him.”

Connor stared after her, looking like she’d just walked out of him in the middle of a battlefield. Then he pivot turned to look at Hank, ignoring the way Damian was starting to babble, grabbing at his tie.

“Hank...” Good lord he’d never heard Connor actually fucking _nervous_ before. “I don’t have protocols for this.”

“You’re fine.” Hank soothed through his chuckles. “Just make sure you support him and bounce him a little.”

Connor looked at him like he was speaking. Well. Hank wasn’t actually sure since Connor was fluent in every language known to man _and_ computer. Alien maybe? Though maybe somebody over at CyberLife had made him fluent in Klingon too. That’d be funny to investigate at some point.

Damian started to squirm however, and Connor focus snapped back to him. Delicately, like he was handling a piece of china- or a bomb- Connor tentatively started to bounce the baby in his arms. The motions calmed the kid from starting another crying fit, but he was still wiggling around. Connor was looking more and more distressed, LED solid, flickering yellow as he looked at Hank. A desperate _Help Me_ plastered over his expression. Hank leaned back in his seat, nodding at the two of them with his chin.

“Talk to him. I think he likes the sound of your voice.” Kid had basically zero'd in on Connor the minute he'd opened his mouth after all.

“My...? Oh.” Connor looked briefly puzzled. Hank wondered if he was remembering the time the Lieutenant had called his voice ‘weird’. Then he nodded to himself, warm gaze fixing onto Damian. “Hello Damian. My name is Connor. I’m an android that works with your father.” Conner’s eyes drifted a little, “Though I suppose you don’t understand those sorts of concepts.”

Damian blinked huge, watery eyes at Connor, expression a little tense, but calming. Connor almost smiled, pleased with his success.

“You are able to project at a very loud volume for having such tiny lungs. It’s quite impressive, but I’m glad you’re calmer now. Stress isn’t good for you as it can be adverse to proper brain development.”

Hank would’ve told him off for using such long winded, technical babble with a baby. But Damian seemed hypnotized.

The entire fucking bullpen was watching, most of them not even pretending they weren’t. It took a very, very loud and pointed cough from Fowler to jolt most of them into moving their asses again. Prick. Like he hadn’t been watching from his perch. Jeffrey was soft as fuck with babies. Hank had photographic evidence.

Damian was gurgling back at Connor occasionally with half formed sounds. He still had Connor’s tie held tight in his fist. The android was making halfhearted attempts to keep him from sticking it in his mouth, trying to trade it for the pacifier.

“Damian that isn’t for chewing on. Wouldn’t you rather-” Connor said, hand slipping down to gently pry at the iron grip. With the single minded concentration that only one year olds possess, Damian latched onto Connor’s index finger with both hands and jammed it into his mouth. Connor started, but didn’t try to retrieve his hand. Instead those brown eyes went wide, then considering. A distant look falling over them. After a moment Connor blinked, mouth falling into a faint ‘o’ shape. The skin of Connor’s hand melted away and his chassis shimmered a little brighter than normal, the blue in the light actually visible.

Damian gurgled happily from where he was gnawing at Connor’s chassis.

“What’d you do?” Hank asked, gesturing to where Connor’s bared hand was glowing faintly.

“I activated my internal coolants and decreased my temperature by several degrees. The cold should help with the swelling in his gums.”

...That was stupidly sweet. What the fuck?

“Yeah...that's a good idea.” Hank said, faintly impressed. He supposed he really shouldn’t have underestimated Connor’s observational skills. “Nice work, nanny bot.”

Connor rolled his eyes at the familiar tease, but stayed where he was, apparently completely content to let the baby go to town on his hand. Connor watched with that faint, crooked ‘almost’ smile on his face as he chatted to him quietly. Praising his ‘impressively strong grip’ and reminding him ‘not to try this on humans’.

Hank watched and marveled silently. Who’d of thought awkward, long winded, often too serious for his own good Connor would be such a natural with kids? Something in him ached a little, as it had been all morning since Chris had showed up. But he shook it away. Easier now that it had been for seven years.

A few minutes passed, Damian starting to yawn around Connor’s finger, still holding on tight. Then his little snub nose wrinkled and he began to fuss again. No amount of Connor’s quite chatter or gentle coddling could get him to settle this time. Tina blessedly reappeared a minute later, just as the stress lines were starting to pick themselves across Connor’s brow. Hank had seen her hovering just on the edge of the break room for the last little while, watching with a look that he couldn’t quite place. Some mix of bewilderment and amazement.

“Sorry to break this up.” She said as she approached. She held up the bottle and shook it in view of the toddler. “Bet you’re hungry huh buddy. Come on.”

Connor passed Damian over carefully. He started to kick up another snit, but once he had the bottle slipped into his mouth he calmed again and went practically lax in Tina’s arms. Connor perched on the edge of Hank’s desk, absently cleaning the saliva from his hand with a tissue.

“Did I mess up? I thought it was going well...” He asked, sounding honestly worried, watching Tina as she settled back at her desk on the other side. Hank snorted and shook his head,

“Nah. You did great actually.” Connor preened a little under that praise. “He’s just fussing cuz he’s hungry and tired. Common trait in human's no matter the age."

Connor nodded, clearly amused by Hank's jab at his species. Then he frowned, LED flickering as he thought, “It’s very inconvenient isn’t it? For humans to have to wait to develop the ability to communicate verbally. Their needs can be very easily misinterpreted.”

“Yeah maybe.” Hank said, trying very hard not to picture Connor’s even, polite tone coming out a baby. Uncanny valley much? “But it’s a good lesson in empathy. You learn to pay attention- 'specially to the little things."

“I didn’t consider that.” Connor replied, expression distant. Kinda like it had been the first time Hank had ‘accused’ Connor of showing empathy. “Damian has learned to show displeasure very well.”

“Yeah.” Hank snorted, shaking his head. Only Connor. He sounded almost proud of the toddler for being able to throw a fit. “Most kids do. Gets em lots of attention after all."

Chris reappeared just as Damian was finishing his bottle. He thanked and apologized profusely to Tina. She just shook her head as Chris took his kid back.

“Actually you should be thanking Connor. He did most of it.”

 “Oh really?" Chris blinked and turned to look at Connor. He look stunned, then it melted away into gratitude.  "I- wow. Thank you, Connor.”

“I didn’t do anything really. He’s a very good baby. I think." It seemed to click in Connor's head how that sounded and he quickly shook his head. "I mean. He is. I don't have experience with them of course. But he's very good.”

Chris laughed a little at that, “Right. Thanks. Say bye bye Damian.” He lifted one of Damian’s little fists and waved it. Connor looked absolutely delighted and waved back when the baby babbled and kicked his feet. Chris thanked all of them again as he settled the boy back into the carrier and the two of them left.

Hank turned back to the terminal, pulling up the files of what they were supposed to be focusing on this morning. The two went over the fact quietly, but when a lull came as noon approached, Connor shifted and looked towards Hank. He grunted, telling Connor he'd caught him looking and was listening while absently tapping the end of a pen on the corner of his mouth as he pondered their next lead.

“Cole seemed like a very happy child.” Connor said after a pause, voice pitched so only Hank could hear him. Hank tensed slightly, glancing at the other. The android was watching Hank, expression open and gentle. Hank took a breath and relaxed. There wasn't any pressure after all. Just an offer. A reminder that Connor was more than willing to listen. To be another person to remember Cole.

“...Yeah. Yeah he was.” Hank said, voice quiet around the slight lump in his throat. “Real good when he was a baby too. Didn’t fuss a whole lot and could sleep like a champion.”

Connor didn’t quite smile, but his eyes lit up as Hank spoke. He nodded, almost to himself as he turned back to the terminal in front of them. “I imagine he felt very secure with you as a parent.”

“You trying to butter me up Connor?”

“Not at all Lieutenant.” Connor said, perfectly sincere. “Just making an observation based on personal experience.”

“Hmn?” That wasn’t what Hank was expecting. He gave Connor a brief glance from the corner of his eyes. Connor had turned back to the terminal, scanning through documents so fast it was just a blur of color on the screen.

“Well, _I_ always feel secure when you’re around. Just extrapolating from there.”

Nope. Hank refused to start tearing up at work. Hell no. Not a fucking chance.

He took the tissue Connor discreetly offered him. Ignored the swell of gratitude that washed over him when Connor shifted on the desk, pointing at some random bullshit on the screen, so Hank was shielded from the others view. Nudged the others dangling legs with his knee, ignoring the crooked, pleased smile playing on the android’s face.

Really, he shouldn't have have been so surprised that Connor’d been good with Damian. Protocol’s for it or not- Connor was pretty damn good at taking care of people.


	6. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo. This was supposed to be fluffy. And fun. And NICE. But no. Connor grabbed this idea out of my hands and took off across the rooftops of Detroit. I'm still trying to figure out how to wrangle him back down here. So that I can write something SOFT for this idea???  
> I swear I will. Even if I have to get Hank to take the reins. So deepest apologies to PanDeTorao who gave me the prompt for this in the first place. Because. I'm sure you had a much, MUCH sweeter idea in mind. Hopefully this is still at least enjoyable in some capacity?? ^^"""" (I'm so sorry.)
> 
> ***Content Warnings for: BRIEF Android gore, injuries and blood (both android and human). Take care of yourselves lovelies.

Connor stared at the blood on his hands. Dark red and _wrong-_

His scanners were working overtime, grabbing onto every face, every detail around him. Processing a hundreds of thousands of bytes of information a second in a bid to not have to think. To not have to _feel_.

It wasn’t working.

There was strange, sinking pressure in his chest. Like being crushed under waves. Sinking and floating all at once.

(A dark part of him whispered, voice so very much like Amanda’s

_You know where he is. You know what he did. Stop the threat-)_

 

“Connor!” A voice tore through Connor’s rapid thoughts. Familiar too- and not one he’d expected to hear. Automatically he turned to look where Marcus was winding his way through hospital staff and patients easily. The other RK series android came to a halt just before Connor, a slight furrow between two toned eyes the only ruffled thing about his appearance. Connor’s shoulder twinged where his own clothes were torn and stained with Thirium and-

_Don’t think about it._

“Hello Markus.” Connor replied, looking away from the other android, content to let his social program do the conversing for him. Still fighting not to think. To remember. He didn’t know what he would do if he let himself.

_A lie. He knew himself better. He would find the one who’d harmed Hank and make doubly certain he would never harm another-_

“It was nice of you to come.”

“Of course I did!” Markus almost sounded offended, Connor winced, feeling the parameters of his program shift in correspondence with the feedback. It was strange. It should’ve been normal, ‘natural’. But the sensation of the programming within him felt. Wrong somehow. He didn’t know why. Markus must have misinterpreted the motion, because he lowered his voice, “I’m the one who asked you both to take this case.”

Ah yes. The case. The one that had hovered like a shroud over their heads for the last three months. What had started string of _brutal_ android murders- each one more and more _inventive_ than the last. The only thing tying them together was the result. Each victim had been completely drained of their thirium supply while alive. It had been disturbing and frustrating with how erratic the perpetrator had seemed to jump from one end of Detroit to the other. Eyewitness reports had been tenuous at best- what few there had been. The break had finally come about half a day ago now. What had started as a shaky lead had led to them stumbling upon a man in the act. He’d fled, leaving the latest victim- a YK500 model- conscious, but only just.

The boy- _**Neal**  _ _the name branded on Connor’s memory banks now_ \- had been badly damaged. Dissembled from the thirium pump down, innards spilling onto the warehouse floor. It was too much even attempt repairs. They’d both known it. He’d had less than a minute to shut down left when Connor had interfaced with him. Neal had pleaded with him, even fading. The man had slaughtered his family. A group of deviants and human’s who’d coexisted since even before the Revolution. Those were the other bodies in the warehouse.

That information, along with _feeling_ Neal die had slowed Connor. Left him hovering for a moment in shock. He’d registered the look of cold, aching fury in Hank’s eyes.

 _He_ _never did well with cases involving children-_

Hank had pursued before Connor could stop him.

And now...

“-like this.” Oh right. Markus was here Connor thought, coming out of his reminiscing. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No. Thank you.” Connor said, tone mild.

“Connor...”

He couldn’t bring himself to look into Markus’ mismatched eyes. Somehow they always found him at his lowest, after his greatest failures. Why? _Why_ -

“It should’ve been me.” The involuntary words make Connor want to tear out his vocal processor for how they shake. They didn’t stop. The thoughts he’d been trying to run from spilling out into the air like a toxin. “This is my fault. I- I wasn’t fast enough. He was shot because of me. It’s my fault. It should’ve been _me-_ ”

“Don’t say that.” Markus’ hand settled firmly on his uninjured shoulder, fingers tight against his synthskin through the jacket. “Come on. We should get your injuries looked at.”

“No.” Connor said, short and sharp. “I’m fine. I need to be here.”

“Connor he’s likely going to be in surgery for a while yet. You need help-”

Shaking his head he tried to lean out of Markus’ grip. “I’m _fine._ ”

“No, you’re not.”

Something vicious boiled through Connor’s circuits. Dark and dangerous and _angry_. Bubbling over from where it’d been building since he’d heard the gunfire and seen the blood blooming on Hank’s stomach. What did _Markus_ know about what he was? Claiming him to be 'one of us'. But was he really? He was the ~~_Deviant_~~ Hunter and there was a target- a threat to him and his- standing not a foot from him. Before he could stop himself, his scanners had pinpointed every weak point on the other android’s body and preconstructed the most optimal way to shut down him down. Everything within Connor prepared to strike-

“Excuse me. Are you Lieutenant Anderson’s next of kin?”

The androids both looked up. A nurse stood just a few feet away from them. An android too, sans led, in dark navy scrubs and a neutral expression on her face as she looked at Connor.

Anxiety scorched through Connor, shattering the preconstruction in his head. As it did, he felt something almost _cold_ slip through him. He'd almost attacked Markus. And he couldn’t blame CyberLife- not this time. That had been entirely _Connor_. And for what? The android leader showing genuine concern over his partner being injured? Clearly there was something malfunctioning within him. He’s need to run a diagnostic soon. But first-

The world around him slowed, sounds dulling out in a wash of blue tinted greyscale as he turned his focus fully on the nurse. It was also a bid to buy him time to force himself back under control. She was calm, stress levels hovering in the low 20’s typical of her work environment. Her name badge declared her as Susan. As did the ID scan, supplying Connor with her model and serial number. The database was only a few months old now. Similar, at least in function, to the one he’d been able to generate on human’s from the start. One of the many contingencies of android kinds continuing steps forward in their march towards absolute equality with humans.

He blinked and the world picked up around him, color and sound returning. Susan was still looking at him patiently. That's right. She'd asked if he was-

“I-I’m-” He stuttered, knowing his led was half way to red and unable to care. It would be a lie to say yes. Hank and he weren’t related. Weren’t _family_. It should’ve been easy to correct the mistake.

So _why_ was the prompt to lie still there? He wasn’t-

“Yes he is.” Markus cut in, easy and charming, steamrolling his spiraling thoughts as he plucked the lie from Connor's head. Connor stared. Markus skillfully ignored him as he turned to the nurse. “How is the Lieutenant doing?”

Susan watched Connor for another moment before turning to Markus, an even smile on her face. “He’s out of his surgery. It went very well. He’s just being moved to the recovery ward.”

Connor hadn’t realized he’d been bracing for the worst until the tension melted out of his joints and he felt his stress levels drop by nearly 8%.

“That’s great to hear. Isn’t it Connor?”

“Oh. Yes.” Connor nodded stiffly, rising to his feet. “May I see him?”

Susan looked him up and down, something wary on on her face. With a jolt, Connor was reminded of what a wreck he was. Covered in a tacky mix both Neal’s thirium and his own still oozing sluggishly from his shoulder. Hank’s blood crusting along the delicate senors of his hands. He tucked them behind himself and straightened. He really wasn’t making a great impression here. In a weird way, he wondered if Hank would be proud of him for that. “It will take us a while to get him settled into the ward. You should head to emergency. There’s a clinic there that can patch that shoulder.”

“That isn’t-”

“I’m sorry Connor. But I cannot allow the risk of thirium contamination within this hospital. It is unsafe, unsanitary and would endanger patient health.” Connor dropped his head, ashamed and frustrated. Susan eyed him closely, but when she spoke again, her voice had gentled, “Don’t neglect your own well being.”

“Sounds like a great idea. Thank you Susan. I’ll make sure he gets there.” Markus’ hand came to settle on Connor shoulder again. He wasn’t sure if Markus was offering him support or keeping him pinned in place. Susan nodded at him,

“I’ll send you my frequency. Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll send you coordinates for the Lieutenant’s room.”

With that she left them both behind and Markus steered Connor through the building. It didn’t take long, maybe 20 minutes for the technician to fix the damaged wire and plates of Connor’s shoulder. Markus slipped away while Connor was get checked and returned just as Connor was finished speaking with Susan. He had a bag with him. Inside was a clean set of clothes- tags still intact. Connor blinked, confused, but Markus made him take it and ushered him into the washroom.

“I’ll swing by tomorrow to check on you both. If you need a place to crash you know New Jericho or Carl’s house are always open to you.”

Markus had left him with that nearly ten minutes ago. And still Connor couldn’t bring himself to enter room 173. Hovering outside of it, only able to see the foot of the bed from where the curtains on the window were drawn.

“You can go sit with him if you like.” One of the floor staff offered, after passing him for the third time.

“Yes. Thank you.” Connor said, though it still took him another drawn out, agonizing minute to finally pull the door open.

Hank was pale, small and _fragile_ in the sterile white room. Light yellow blankets wrapped tight around him to ward off the chill. Connor sat hard in the plastic chair placed haphazard to the side of the cot. He could’ve looked at the machines monitoring the human’s vitals, but a part of him couldn’t bring himself to trust anything but his own senses. Every ounce of processing power he had was thrown into scanning and re-scanning the Lieutenant’s heart rate, blood pressure, O2 stats, the works.

Hank’s fingers twitched. The motion snapped Connor’s attention from the numbers flying across his HUD. Silently, he stood from the chair.

“...Hank?” He whispered, hopeful. But he didn’t want to wake the other if the movement had been involuntary in his sleep. Hank’s brow furrowed however, a low weak groan rasping from him.

“Mrgh...Connor...?”

Relief and worry flooded the android.

“Yes. I’m here.” He kept his voice low, “You’re in the hospital. You were shot-”

“Yeah I can feel that much.” Hank grumbled, massaging the palm of one hand into his forehead, careful not to jostle his side where the bullet had just missed his kidney.

“The surgery went well. Your doctor said there should be no lasting damages, aside from scar tissue.” That at least got something like a smile from Hank, strained though it might have been. Connor knew he should encourage the Lieutenant to rest again, the anesthetic from his surgery still clearly in his system. Instead he found himself talking, “We apprehended the perpetrator shortly after you were injured. His name is Doug Martins. Previous record of domestic violence and vandalism. He’s currently being treated at another facility but once a recovery we’ll be able to get official statements. He was. Very forthcoming with his involvement. We should be able to get names, possibly even a location for the operations base-”

Hank made a sound that could’ve been a word, but Connor couldn’t seem to stop. The calm, easy facts giving him a safe haven from the worry and stress that had been plaguing him for hours now.

“-so with time we should be able to put a stop to this. I’m reasonably certain Martins was one of their ringleaders, so it should put a dent in their activities. I believe Captain Fowler intends to-”

“ _Hey_.” Hank cut in, voice rough with exhaustion. Connor snapped to attention, “Slow down kid, your gonna blow a circuit.”

“...I’m sorry. I just- I mean I was concerned for your well being. And-”

“Ease up.” There was more humor in Hank’s voice than Connor thought appropriate for the situation. “It’s not my first time gettin’ shot, y’know.”

“I...” So many things want to spill from Connor’s lips. Just like the blood that had gushed over Hank’s hours ago.

 _I didn’t want you to get hurt. I should've stopped you. I should’ve taken the shot._ _I’m sorry._ _I failed._ _I’m scared._ _I c_ _ould’ve lost you._ _I’m scared._ _I’m_ _ **scared**_ _-_

“I’m glad you’re alive.” Was thankfully all that managed to escape him. He would not push his own instability on Hank, not when he was injured and only just starting to recover.

“Heh...” There was a wry warmth to Hank’s smile. “Me too.”

He shifted a little then flinched, heaving a sigh. After a quick assessment, Connor reached over, interfacing with the morphine drip. Hacking in and uping the levels by another few decibels was simple.

“You’ll get in trouble...” Hank said, but there was a grin in his voice.

“The amount is still within prescribed levels.” Connor replied, settling back into the seat. “I’ve already notified your attending so they can keep record.”

“Riiiight. Mind meldy thing. S’fuckin cool.” Hank’s voice was growing thick, the additional painkillers already taking effect. His gaze slowly hazing as sleep crept up on him again.

“You should get some more rest Lieutenant.”

Hank wrinkled his nose, lopsided frown on his face, “ ‘ey, none of that.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You calling me Lieutenant. Means you’re feelin shitty. ‘nough of that. ‘sokay. We’re okay kid...” Hank’s voice slurred down into nothingness as he succumbed to the post-op exhaustion. Connor blinked through the sudden vision blur threatening to overtake him. He cut off his vocal processor to withhold the unexpected sob that threatened to tear free.

Connor tucked himself into the chair, curling his legs into his chest. His chin rested on his knees, eyes fixed on the slumbering form of Hank in front of him. It was bad etiquette and poorer manners, but Connor couldn’t find himself even distantly caring. It was the only thing stopping the shakes threatening to rattle him to pieces. The human’s vitals swarmed his vision, fixed at the very center of his HUD. He minimized and dismissed personal commands, like a pointless alert for emergency stasis or a warning of mild thirium contamination. Right now none of that was important. He could attended to it all later.

 

_> >Mission start: Ensure Lt. Hank Anderson’s complete recovery. _

_ >Time frame: indefinite._

 

 

 

“Connor you need to-”

“I’m fine.” The words came preloaded. Easy and so familiar with how often he’d said them the past three days the rising itch to throw something through the window clawed under his skin. Markus huffed, sounding exasperated. He didn’t have to look at the other to know he was being given the patented ‘eye of disapproval’. That was another thing he was very familiar with now.

“He’s going to be upset with you when he comes to again and you’re still hurt.” Connor was beginning to understand Hank’s continued frustration with himself. That rational, and somehow patronizing tone was grating as anything against his non-existent nerves. He would have to ease up once Hank was recovered.

 "The damage to my shoulder has been fixed."

"That's not the only-"

“And at least he’ll be alive to do so.”

Markus frowned in that way of his. Just a slight downturn of his mouth and the faintest furrow of his brow. “The doctors have said that he’s going to be fine.”

“Statistically speaking there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place.”

“Connor...” There was a note of warning in Markus voice. Connor tuned him out, reaching to fix Hank’s immaculate blankets. The weight of Markus’ eyes on him lingered. Connor was just about to ask the other to leave when he spoke,

“...I want to show you something.”

“Later-”

“No.” Markus stepped into the corner of Connor’s vision. Frustrated he turned to look at the other RK series android. Markus was holding out a hand, bare chassis glinting in the awful hospital lighting. Interface points bright with vibrant blue. Connor eyed it, then looked at Markus again. There was an obstinate tilt to the android leader’s mouth. “I’ve got all day.”

A lie. Markus’ entire life revolved around their people. Around protecting them and ensuring their livelihoods and well being. Around carving a niche of the world out just for them. And it was an uphill battle with anvils lashed to his feet and a boulder in front of him. Guilt twisted through Connor. He knew Markus had a stubborn streak that rivalled his own- maybe it was an RK thing. Or a common bug in prototypes. And here he was holding Markus up even further for his own faults. His own failings. Markus had already wasted enough of his precious time coming to check in on him.

With a sigh, Connor reached out and grasped the offered hand, fingers curling around Markus’ forearm. The connection sang to life between them instantly. Images that weren’t _his_ began to flicked around his head. His own memory bank reeled, Connor instinctively flinching away from the intruder in his head. Especially since it was _Markus_. Markus who didn’t know what Connor had almost done-

_It’s alright. I won’t pry. I just need you to understand something._

A prompt appeared in the corner of his HUD.

 

_> >Incoming transmission from **Markus**_

_ >Accept data transfer? Y/N_

 

With a thought, Connor accepted, wanting this to be over with quickly. Memories poured over his thoughts. Moments of a kind, aged face. Carl Manfred his own scanners supplied, though it was hardly needed. Carl was plastered across every inch of the data. Hours, days, _years_ flew across their connection. Connor saw it all. He  _felt_ it all.

Being in charge of Carl’s well being. Watching him in the fascinating process of _creating_ in a wide, bright, disorderly space. Chess games lost, drawn and won in a calculated roll of choice depending on the day and moment and mood. Music and the smile on Carl’s face when it wasn’t _quite_ perfect. Another day of protests and genuine concern “ _What happened to your clothes? What a bunch of idiots..._ ” and “ _One day I won’t be here to take care of you anymore_. - _Decide who you are."_

Connor realized what Markus wanted to tell him by sharing these precious memories.

Carl had been the deciding factor in Markus awakening.

Just like how Hank had been for Connor’s.

And their bond. Carl had called Markus his son, and that identity had fit itself like a puzzle piece into Markus’ being. Simple and perfect. Markus must’ve known where his thoughts had turned to because the other smiled,

“They worry for us. Even when it’s illogical or they’re the ones who’re hurt. Because family is important.”

Connor ripped his hand away, staggering to his feet so quickly he almost knocked the chair over.

“What!? I. N-no. No. That’s-” Connor’s own processor whirled from the sudden shift back into his own mind. He shook his head. “I’m not. Hank doesn’t-”

“You sure about that?”

“ _Yes._ ” Connor snapped, voice too loud in the quiet of the room.

Cole’s warm, bright eyes flooded across Connor’s vision and he shuddered. _Cole_ was Hank’s son. Connor would never. Never ever, _ever_ try to fill that space. The thought of it made him feel like a virus was crawling through him CPU. It was wrong. Wrong, wrong wrong. A piece trying to fit in the wrong puzzle.

Hank had a family. One held so close and precious in his heart that there wasn’t room for anything else. And Connor would never presume that someone like _him_ could fit into that tight knit circle of two.

_But I want to._

The traitorous thought crawled along the fringes of his awareness. Connor deleted it immediately, wishing he could do the same to feelings that accompanied it. He closed his eyes tight, arms curling across his strangely aching chest to shield himself from two toned prying eyes.

“I don’t mean to butt in. But. I think you should talk to him.” There was something pitying and warm in Markus voice as he said goodbye, a promise to contact them both the next day to see how Hank was doing.

As soon as he was out of ear shot Connor collapsed to the ground. Shuddering breaths he didn’t need raked through his nose and down his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, head bowing, Hank’s vitals the only visual information he clung to with dogged stubbornness.

 _Please_ _stop him_ _. They were all I got- my_ family _-_

Neal’s soft, scared voice echoed through his mind.

Connor hadn’t known how _badly_ he could want something until that moment. Not even the freedom he’d fought for against a mind that wasn’t his own in the deadly cold. Something in that word, and the fierce, painful, wonderful feeling of happiness that one dying kid imprinted on him with his final moments.

Hank had a family. He had Sumo and he’d had Cole. It was something exceptionally important to the man asleep behind him. Connor just hadn’t realized that _he’d_ wanted to be a part of it too. Not until his chance at it had almost been ripped from him.

He wasn’t sure why that idea had never come to him before. He knew android’s and human’s could co-exist. They were doing so more and more. Partners, friends. But family...? That was something different. Something. Precious.

It wasn’t something Connor had earned. Not yet. But...

Connor shifted, head leaning back to rest against the side of the mattress.

Maybe...maybe it was something he could work towards. He knew Hank thought of him as someone important. As an existence that had value and meaning. Perhaps, once this entire mess was over with and behind them, perhaps they could discuss even the faint possibility.

 

 

“Connor. Come here.”

Pausing from where he’d been wiping down the spotless counter tops with lemon scented Lysol wipes, Connor looked to the living room. He wondered if the relief at seeing Hank safe would ever go away. The Lieutenant was nestled on the couch, wrapped in his fuzzy bathrobe and a light, green throw blanket. The dark circles under his eyes had improved the few days, the man much more relaxed here at home than he had been at the hospital. His long hair was drawn back from his face into a ponytail, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. His attention was still on the book he had in hand.

Connor walked over, tossing the barely used wipe into the trash as he stepped around Sumo sprawled by his food dish.

“Yes? Can I get you something? Do you need-”

“Sit down.” Was all Hank said, turning to the next page in his book. Connor blinked, then frowned.

“I-”

“Please?” The word stopped Connor dead. That was very, very unlike Hank. He felt his stress levels spike. Hank glanced up at him, “Relax. Everything's fine. Just sit.”

Connor sat- carefully, as he was on Hank’s injured side. Either the human didn’t notice, or just didn’t care, because as soon as Connor was settled a heavy arm wrapped around his shoulders and tugged him over. Connor was only just able to correct his own momentum to keep him from colliding with Hank. He’d noticed the growing sluggishness in his own systems as time went on. He was getting more and more alerts for the stasis he’d neglected and the continued thirium contamination.

“Hank..?” He said, voice soft in his confusion as Hank tugged him closer till his head was leaned against the human’s shoulder.

“Shhh.”

“But your injury-”

“I’m fine Con. Now shhhh _._ ” And with that, Hank began to read aloud. One of Hank’s hands found it’s way into Connor’s hair, broad, calloused fingers massaging his scalp. Connor wasn’t sure if Hank had intended it, but the way he’d tucked the android against his side meant he could hear the human’s heartbeat. It thudded, quiet, but _strong_ against his ear, the rumble of his voice a pleasant vibration in his audio processors. He liked listening to Hank. The cadence of his voice familiar and soothing.

Stasis broke over him like a slow rising tide, washing away the vitals that had hung in his vision for the past week and half, drowning him in silent, distant, comfortable darkness.

 

 

Hank felt Connor go lax against him. His slowly healing wound twinged like a bitch. He kept reading, keeping his voice low and even for another few minutes. Making sure the kid had _finally_ let himself rest. As he reached the end of the page, he let himself trail off, bookmarking the spot with his finger as he turned to look down at the other.

“What am I gonna do with you kid?”

Markus had told him what happened. The two of them texting back and forth in the moments Connor wasn’t attached to Hank’s hip. Apparently the fucker they’d been chasing was still in ICU. His limbs basically _shattered_ at the joints. Especially his legs. Damaged from a 'jump' he'd apparently taken from the third story of the warehouse Hank had chased him onto. A jump Hank was certain Connor had 'helped' him with. His chance of recovery minimal at best. At least of moving on his own power again. Connor’d made sure that the bastard would live. Not that Hank could say he hadn’t deserved it, after the thick trail of blue blood they tracked for nearly three weeks to find him. And the fact he'd included humans in that number at the end ensured he wouldn't be getting out of this one lightly. Still. It was. Disconcerting to think what Connor had done in retaliation. And Hank knew it hadn’t been for the _mess_ they’d found in that warehouse. Just thinking about the bodies, ‘specially that _kid_ , was enough to send his stomach rolling.

It was strange when Hank was reminded just what Connor was capable of. What he’d be _made_ to do. To be some kind of specialized infiltration model. Meant to be able to integrate and ingratiate himself with anyone. Any person, group or team. And meant to be able to take down the once supposed dangerous, destabilized deviants. Android’s who by their very nature were meant to endure far more than human’s ever could.

And Connor could take them apart like it was child’s play.

Seeing that brutal, violent strength turned on humans- remembering what he could do when Hank had grown so used to Connor being everything but that.

Fuck.

Still. Maybe Hank was a stupid, sentimental old fool. But Connor didn’t scare him. Never had. And this latest incident didn’t change that at all.

“No Sumo. Let him sleep.” Hank muttered, pushing the dog’s head away as he tried to shove it under one of Connor’s lax hands. The dog whined at him, big eyes pathetic and sad. Hank rolled his eyes and gave him an ear rub. “Yeah I know he spoils you. Tough luck buddy. Stuck with me for a bit.” Sumo groaned. “Well excuse me princess.”

He curled up across their feet. Though whether that was in protest or acceptance Hank had no fucking clue. With a sigh he wedged the book carefully between the armrest and cushion, not really feeling like continuing for now. He was surprisingly burnt out on books after the last few days of doing not much besides sleeping, eating and reading.

Connor was still beside him, led pulsing a slow, even yellow rather than it’s usual calm blue. Meant his system was running diagnostics- ones Markus said he’d been putting off since Hank was injured. This was the first time Hank had seen the kid slow down at all since they’d been home. Pushing and pushing and pushing himself on. Seeing to Hank’s needs and whims before Hank even knew he had them. And cleaning. Lots of cleaning. Sometimes though Hank would catch him, staring at his hands, or rubbing them against dish towels of the legs of his pants. Like he was trying to get something off, his gaze a hundred thousand miles away.

“Don’t lose yourself like that. You can’t-” Hank whispered, something fierce and aching in his chest. “You’re _more_ than that Connor. A hell of a lot more.”

Connor was curiosity and toothy smiles. Cheeky worry and a box full of sticky notes.

Connor was-

The thought stalled and hung in Hank’s mind. Bright and sharp and shocking for how much it _wasn’t_ a revelation. Without really thinking about it, Hank lifted his head and looked towards the mantle. Cole’s bright smile greeted him.

It wasn’t the same. The bloom of fear and devotion that had flourished in his soul the first time he’d held that squealing, red faced little bundle. The tearing, jagged scar that had been left in Cole’s wake.

It was different. Still fierce, still protective. But different- in as many ways as it was familiar.

Connor was _family._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm thinking this ones getting a 'part two' so to speak. At the very least. Possibly even a part three depending on the boys. ^^" We'll see.
> 
> Also, because I'm terrible at tags, if there's anything- especially content/trigger warning wise- that anyone would like/needs me to add just let me know in the comments and I will do so happily. This story in particular is going to have some dark themes and I want people to be safe. Thank you lovely, wonderful readers!


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